


old enough.

by katarama



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Allison Lives, Babies, Body Worship, Casual Sex, Crushes, Derek in Sweaters, F/M, Future Fic, Making Out, McCall Pack, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 16:38:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8063917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katarama/pseuds/katarama
Summary: Lydia goes up the stairs to the waiting room and sees a familiar form in the chair, his elbows on his knees and his big hands clasped together, his body steady and still but tense.  She sees his light eyes and thick beard, which has a lot more grey hairs mixed in than she remembers.  His sweater hugs his upper arms just the way his t-shirts did back before she left for college, when she was young and he was taken and they were both in need of a little time to fix themselves up.
“Derek,” she says, her mouth curling around his name.  She can’t help it.  Can’t help the softness in her chest when he looks up at her, grinning at her warmly.
“Hey Lydia,” he replies.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nerdy_farm_girl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdy_farm_girl/gifts).



Lydia doesn’t spend a lot of time in Beacon Hills anymore.

It isn’t that she had to get out.  She didn’t run as far away from the town as she could, like Jackson.  She didn’t choose to leave Beacon Hills so much as she chose to take opportunities that weren’t there.  Big opportunities, research and academic opportunities that she couldn’t have in a small place like Beacon Hills.  She makes an effort to come back, for holidays, at least, to visit the pack.  To see her mom.  To check in on how things are going.  

This year, she’s making her return visit a little earlier than usual.

“We’re having a little girl,” Allison had told her over Skype, Scott peering over her shoulder down at the webcam.  Scott glows with pride, his hand resting gently on Allison’s shoulder.  “We want you to be the godmother.”

Lydia had said yes, of course.  She couldn’t make it down for the baby shower, since she was speaking at a conference, but she did everything she could to help plan it, and she gave them more advice than they probably wanted on setting up their gift registry and picking items to go on it.  

The baby’s due date is just a week after grades are due at the end of the year, so Lydia clears her schedule so she can work remotely after and go down to visit.  She gets her grading done as quickly as she can and hopes that the baby doesn’t come too early.

Lydia gets a stream of missed texts saying Allison’s going to the hospital as she gets off the plane, so Stiles picks her up in the cruiser on his way out of work to take her there with him.  The entire way there, he’s so jittery and animated that it reminds Lydia of back when they were in high school.  

It’s a weird thought.  It’s been a long time since they graduated and parted ways, but it’s still a little jarring to Lydia thinking of two of them having _kids_.  Not that Scott won’t be the best father imaginable.  Not that Allison won’t be an equally as good mother.  

“Are you excited to be her godfather?” Lydia asks Stiles when the hospital’s in sight.  Stiles cuts her off with a laugh.

“Dude, I’m not the godfather.  That’s way too much responsibility.  Scott asked, and I said if he had another I’d do it, but not for this one.  I’m gonna be that kid’s terrible influence second dad.  The cool dad.”  Stiles pulls into the parking garage and parks his car, taking advantage of the special sheriff reserved parking

“Who is, then?” Lydia asks.  She hadn’t even thought to ask Allison, because she was certain it would be Stiles.  

“Who do you think?” Stiles responds, which isn’t really an answer.

She goes up the stairs to the waiting room and sees a familiar form in the chair, his elbows on his knees and his big hands clasped together, his body steady and still but tense.  She sees his light eyes and thick beard, which has a lot more grey hairs mixed in than she remembers.  His sweater hugs his upper arms just the way his t-shirts did back before she left for college, when she was young and he was taken and they were both in need of a little time to fix themselves up.

Of course he’s the godfather.  If not Stiles, then

“Derek,” she says, her mouth curling around his name.  She can’t help it.  Can’t help the softness in her chest when he looks up at her, grinning at her warmly.

“Hey Lydia,” he replies.  She settles into the seat next to him, smoothing out her skirt.  “How was the flight?”

“Not too long.  How’s Allison doing?”

“She said no IV,” Derek says.  “Said she could handle it, and she knows that if she can’t, Scott is there.  They let him go in there with her because he’s Melissa’s kid.  Things are going well, as far as I can hear.”

“Good,” Lydia says.  “Hopefully it won’t be long.”  Her bags are in Stiles’ car, and she’s itching to get unpacked.  But more than anything, she wants to see Allison and Scott, wants to hug them both close and see the tiny human being that they made together.

“Can’t keep babies to a schedule, Lydia,” Stiles teases, knocking his elbow against her arm.  “You’re just gonna have to wait for it to pop out like the rest of us.”

“Here,” Derek says.  He reaches down onto the ground next to him and unzips his bag, pulling out a small book.  “I didn’t have anything related to math, but I figured we’d get bored.”

She takes the book into her hands, running her fingers over the worn cover.  It’s a history book, related to old blood werewolf packs.  It isn’t as relevant to her life as it would’ve been back when Beacon Hills was her permanent place of residence, but it’s something to do other than kill her phone battery.

“Of course you’d be carrying around books, you dweeb,” Stiles says, but Lydia smiles at Derek.

“Thank you,” she says, and she turns to the first page.

* * *

 

As far as births go, Lydia thinks it is relatively quick.  They have to wait a while to actually see Allison, Scott, and their new Argent-McCall baby.  Stiles does two separate anxious coffee runs and brings up cookies for all of them, with one each tucked away for the brand new parents.

“Melissa’s going to want to hog the baby,” Stiles complains.  “She works here, she’s going to get to hold the kid whenever she wants.”

“Are you even allowed to hold her?” Derek asks, and Stiles shoots him a dirty look.

“I am if I’m sitting down,” he says indignantly, and Lydia can’t help but laugh.  Just from his tone she can hear that it’s a conversation that he and Allison have probably had a thousand times.

When they finally get the go-ahead, the three of them pile into the hospital room.  It’s small, though larger than Lydia expected it to be.  There’s the bed and a couch and a TV, a chair next to the bed that Scott is sitting in, holding his brand new baby daughter.

His eyes are so soft and fond and awed and full of love.  Lydia wants to say hello, but her throat feels too tight.

“Hi guys,” Scott says softly.  “This is Erica.”

There are hugs all around and pictures of the family.  Melissa gets called back to the ER before she’d like, with the hospital just as understaffed as always, and Erica gets passed around.  Scott catches them up on the end of the pregnancy and on the rest of the pack; Mason’s working a late night shift at the library, so he and Liam will be there in the morning, and Kira couldn’t make it back for the birth, but should be in the next day.  Malia’s taking care of some stuff for Allison back at the house, because she isn’t really that wild about babies until they’re old enough to talk, and Chris is… somewhere.

“He’ll be here as soon as he can,” Allison says simply, which Lydia takes to mean ‘he’s on hunter business’.

It is starting to get late, and Stiles is starting to yawn.  He’s been texting furiously with Parrish about something, which Lydia thinks means he probably should’ve been back at work already, and has been delaying the inevitable to spend as much time with his best bro’s new baby as possible.

“Go back to work,” Lydia texts him, saving him the embarrassment of her having to say it out loud.  Scott and Allison would agree with her, she’s certain.  “Derek and I have it covered.”

Stiles hems and haws and lingers.  He takes another turn holding Erica, obediently sitting down on the couch as he looks down at her.  But when his phone vibrates so loudly that he almost jumps, Lydia takes her off his hands.

“I gotta go,” Stiles says apologetically.  “But I’ll be back in the morning.  If you need me…”

“We’ll let you know,” Scott promises, and Stiles gives them both a hug.  Stiles asks if they want anything to eat, and Scott hesitates.

“I was planning on going down to grab us something soon,” Scott says.  “I should probably get some exercise after sitting still for so long.”

“Just let me know if you change your mind, bro,” Stiles says as he heads for the door.  

“You two don’t have to stay either, you know,” Allison says to Derek and Lydia.  Lydia looks up from Erica to see the dark circles under Allison’s eyes, the exhaustion visible in her shoulders.  She looks as tired as Allison ever looks.  “You just flew in today, Lydia.  You’ve had a long day.”

“You’ve had a longer one, Allison,” Lydia says.  “Derek and I can look after the baby while Scott gets food, and you can get some rest.  I know you need it.”

Allison holds out for a little while longer, but even Scott winds up on their side.  Allison gets a visit from her nurse to check in and then settles in for what she insists is only going to be a little nap.

“She’s gonna be out for a while,” Scott says, “so I’m going to go downstairs for a bit.  Text me if you need me back.”

“We will,” Derek reassures him.

Allison’s breathing evens out, and the room goes quiet.

* * *

 

Lydia knows Derek has held kids before.  She knows he had a lot of siblings and cousins, and that Cora wasn’t the only younger one.  It’s probably been a long time, but he looks at ease, the tiny baby wrapped up in his arms, his hand carefully supporting Erica’s neck as she dozes.  

One of Derek’s hands looks almost half the baby’s size.  It should be a strange sight, a man so big with such a tiny little person in his hands.  It doesn’t look strange at all.  It hits Lydia in the gut in a way she couldn’t have imagined, watching how tenderly Derek cradles Erica, watching the way the edges of his eyes crinkle as Erica’s eyes blink open and she quietly burbles up at him.  

Lydia has had her college friends cracking jokes about heading into baby fever age for a while now, but she didn’t think that really applied to her.  She’s never wanted to have children.  She can sort of see the appeal, though, in the moment.  Of having them, though not birthing them.  Derek looks old enough to have children, now, looks mature enough.  Looks softer.  His sweater have thumbholes.  He has laugh lines on his face that he didn’t, before.  He’s still fit, but he looks bigger, if that’s even possible, like he’s filled out with age.  Lydia can picture him running around the preserve with a couple little ones, his grin broad, his hair grey around his temples, the salt and pepper even more prominent than it is now.  

It’s more prominent now than it was when Lydia last saw him, and she doesn’t know that she wants to address the way that makes something warm curl in her gut.  She was always into older men, she supposes.  Maybe that isn’t something she’s grown out of after all.

“How long are you sticking around?” Derek asks quietly, careful not to wake Allison.  

“Two weeks,” Lydia replies.  “Not as long as I’d like, but now that the school year’s over, I have a bit more freedom to drive down over weekends.”

“You should, you know,” Derek says softly.  “We- the pack.  The pack misses you.  It’d be nice to see you more.  Do you have somewhere to stay while you’re here?”

“Mom offered me my old room,” Lydia says.  “Stiles told me he was dropping my stuff off there on his way back to work.  It’s always weird going back to my old room, but it’s convenient.”

“You’re welcome to stay with me,” Derek says.  “We can swing by your place to get your stuff on the way back from the hospital.”

Lydia remembers Derek’s apartment from before.  Last time she was around Beacon Hills, there were no empty rooms there.  “Although I remember your bed being large,” Lydia starts, but Derek’s cheeks heat, and he cuts her off.

“Cora moved all her stuff out to go back down to South America with her girlfriend,” Derek says.  “There’s a room free.”

Erica makes a tiny little noise, and Derek soothes her, his hand gently rubbing her soft skin.  She quiets, and Lydia wonders if the easy soothing it’s a pack thing or a Derek thing.  Or a newborn baby thing.  Or all of the above.

“I probably would’ve said yes even if it had been your bed you were offering,” Lydia says, trying to sound as removed from the statement as she can.  She feels so incredibly transparent, like everything’s written on her face.  She hates that feeling, just as much as she always did, and it’s somehow even scarier around Derek.  He doesn’t even really need to see her face to know how she’s feeling.

“That’s welcome to you too,” Derek says.  Lydia thinks maybe this part is a conversation that shouldn’t be taking place with a baby in Derek’s hands.  She’d like it better with Derek’s hands elsewhere.  Lydia’s thighs, or her breasts, or her hips, or even cupping her face as he leans in to kiss her, his long beard softer than the stubble he always sported before.

The door creaks open, and Lydia jumps.  Scott peeks in, a water bottle and a brown paper bag in his hands.  Lydia smooths her skirt.  Scott has werewolf hearing, too.

“You two go home,” Scott says firmly.  “Erica and I will hang out until it’s time for her to nurse, or until her mom wakes up.  We’ll have some Daddy and kiddo time.”

“Are you sure?” Derek asks, but Scott comes over and holds out his arms.  Derek reluctantly relinquishes her, and Scott cuddles her up in his arms.

“Yeah,” he says.  “I’m sure.  You two go get some sleep.  Or whatever it is you want to do.”

The look he shoots Lydia is distinctly not innocent, but Lydia isn’t going to shy away.  She’s a grown woman, and she isn’t going to hide from a little innuendo.

“We’ll be back here tomorrow,” Lydia promises.  “Make sure you get some sleep.  From what I’ve heard, day two is when things get rougher.”

“We’ve got it,” Scott says.  

“Night, Scott,” Derek says.  “And night to you, too, Erica.”

* * *

 

They drive back to Lydia’s mom’s house in comfortable silence.  Lydia has a lot of thoughts swirling around her head, and she’s sure Derek probably does, too.  Derek pulls up in the driveway of her house, and Lydia heads in, hugging her mom, updating her about the plans, and grabbing her luggage.

“Dinner tomorrow night,” her mother insists, and Lydia agrees.

Derek pops the trunk of the car, and though he hovers, ready to step in on a second’s notice, Lydia easily maneuvers her bag into the car.  They both get back in and start the short drive back to Derek’s apartment.

The tension is thicker the closer they get to Derek’s.  Derek puts on quiet music just to fill the silence, and Lydia isn’t sure if he picks jazz just because it’s inoffensive or if he’s a big enough dork that he thinks it’s mood music.

“I haven’t done this in a while,” Derek admits.  “Not since Braeden.”

“I have,” Lydia says.  She isn’t too old to go out with her friends, to chat and flirt and to occasionally fall into bed with handsome strangers.  It isn’t a frequent thing, but she isn’t ashamed.  “But if you just want to sleep, that’s okay.”

Derek doesn’t say anything for a long moment.  Lydia lets the quiet sit.  She isn’t going to pressure Derek either way.  She’s put everything out on the table, but it’s up to him to decide where things go from there.  She wouldn’t be upset if all that comes out of it was some cuddling, having the security of a warm, familiar body in the bed next to her.

“I don’t want to just sleep.”

He takes his eyes off the road for the briefest moment to lock eyes with her.  A glance, their eyes connecting, and then back on the road.  The look sticks in her head, the quiet intensity of his gaze.  There’s intent there, and it makes Lydia shiver.  It makes her impatient.

They park at Derek’s building.  Lydia grabs her suitcase.  Derek lets them in, and they head up, and Lydia only has time to put her suitcase down before Derek is close enough for her to smell the faintest hint of cologne, the subtle, soft edge left after a long day.

“Hi,” Lydia says, trying to project confident but only managing breathless.  

Derek leans down, and then his face is right there, too, and Lydia’s closing the last of the gap.  Derek’s lips are deceptively soft, though the hair framing them isn’t.  Derek pulls away, and Lydia wants to chase his mouth, want to kiss him until she can melt into the feeling, until her lips are sore and warm and her body is relaxed.

“Haven’t done this in a while either,” Derek says breathlessly.  Lydia thinks he means kissing until his hands are sliding down her sides, are drifting down to the edges of her skirt and gripping her thighs, are lifting her up until she’s level with his face.

“Hi,” he says, his breath soft on her face.  She adjusts her positioning, her lower legs swinging around him, tightening just above the curve of his ass.  Her arms wrapping around his neck, one hand drifting up to twine her fingers in his hair.  

She kicks off her heels.  She doesn’t need them anymore.

She can feel that they’re moving, but she doesn’t even care where they’re going.  Her skirt is riding up on her thighs, leaving Derek touching skin as he kisses her, as he holds her close to him.  She tugs his hair and he moans into her mouth and her heart is pounding.

“You should be wearing less clothes,” she says as she pulls away, catching her breath.  “A lot less clothes.”

Derek’s mouth drifts to her neck, pausing for a moment to suck on the skin before his lips and beard drag up until he’s breathing right behind her ear, sending tingles down her spine.  

“We’re almost to bed.”

He spends a little more time on her neck as he brings her into his room.  He sets her down on his bed, and her legs drag him down with her, until he’s braced himself, his elbows locked against the bed as he presses down on top of her.  She slowly disentangles her legs, though only for the satisfaction of watching him pull away enough to peel off his sweater.  There are grey hairs on his chest, too, that she somehow didn’t expect, but that make her squirm.  She wants to dig her fingers in there, to smooth her hands along his abs, which are still somehow just as defined as they were when she was younger, but look more like they fit on him, his body broader and older and sturdier.

“Do you have condoms?” Lydia asks.  “I want you to fuck me.”

“Yeah,” Derek says.  “They’re in the bathroom.  I can go get them.”

“Go do that,” Lydia says.  “And ditch the pants, while you’re at it.”

Derek turns, giving Lydia the perfect view as he slowly unbuttons and unzips his jeans, the denim hugging his ass.  He tugs them off and tosses them down next to his sweater, grabbing both and glancing over his shoulder as he heads for the doorway.

“Hurry up,” Lydia says as she catches his eye.  She pulls up her skirt enough to flash him a glimpse of her underwear, the thin black satin already soaked through with her slick.

She hopes Derek can smell it.  She hopes the smell of her arousal fills his nose and makes his mouth water, makes him want to bury his face in her cunt and eat her until they’re both drenched with her slick.

But that’s for another time.  A time when Lydia’s less impatient.

“Leave your clothes on,” Derek tells her as he heads to the bathroom.  “The unwrapping is the best part.”

* * *

 

Lydia thinks Derek probably doesn’t understand her urgency of the situation, though she ultimately can’t really complain.  He takes his time getting her clothes off, touching every inch of her he can make an excuse for as he lifts her dress off, his big, broad hands skimming along her sides, his fingertips brushing her back.  She almost tells him not to bother with her bra, to focus his attention down lower, but she bites her tongue when he unclasps her bra and cups her breasts, his thumbs brushing against her hard nipples.

“If you weren’t so wet already I’d get my mouth here, too,” Derek says.

“I am, though,” Lydia says, “so get your fingers inside me.”

Derek laughs, and Lydia’s bra hits the floor.  His hands find the scar on her side, but he doesn’t comment, only lingers for a moment and then heads down to her underwear.

By the time they’re off, she’s so soaked that he barely even needs the lube.

His fingers are bigger than hers, broader and wider, and they fill her up so much faster.  They aren’t a cock, but they’re something, after so long with just the ache of her cunt as it clenched around nothing.  He takes his time stretching her open, and if it were anyone but Derek, if this were a hookup and if she were any less needy, breathing less hard from just fingers, she’d tell him that his cock really isn’t big enough to take this long.

He takes his underwear off, and she slides the condom on him, relishing the chance to touch him, for once.  To press her hand against his hip, to get a feel for his nice, thick cock, to feel how hard he must be.  It makes it almost that much more appealing, having him take his time with her, knowing that he was aching, that his underwear was probably just as wet as hers.  That he was waiting, too, riling himself up to finally sink his cock into her, to feel her hot and tight around him.

Lydia moans when he finally slides into her, his body warm and solid above her.  He kisses her while they both adjust, and then he’s fucking her.  It may have been a long time since he did this, but it doesn’t feel like it, his hips moving fluidly, his motions even.  She knows that next time (if there is a next time, please god let there be a next time) she’s going to want to turn the tables, to sit on his cock and to press him down into the bed.  But this is exactly what she needed this time, the feeling of Derek’s hips starting to stutter, his breathing getting heavier, his chest glistening with sweat.  

She doesn’t want to wait for him to come to get off, so she gets her hand on her clit and rubs, because she can feel that Derek’s close.  She moans and bucks her hips, taking his cock in deeper, and his hips jerk.  Her eyes squeeze shut and her calves tighten, the tension in her body building until he times a thrust just right, and everything spills over.

“God,” she hears him say quietly, almost reverently, the sound fuzzy in her ears.  She tightens around him, and he groans, fucking harder into her through the aftershocks.  She can feel when he comes, can feel his cock pulsing inside her, can feel the way the tension in his body mirrors hers, his breathing heavy and his arms straining to keep himself from collapsing on top of her.

She leans up to kiss him, and then he pulls out, flopping down on the bed next to her to catch his breath.  Everything is still for a moment as the two of them catch their breath, and Lydia wants to just curl up and doze off right there.

“I’ll be right back,” she says, kissing Derek again and forcing herself to a sitting position.  “Just want to use the restroom.”

* * *

 

She grabs her toothbrush and face wash from her suitcase and heads to the bathroom.  She pees and then washes her hands, looking at herself in the mirror as she lathers with Derek’s hand soap.

She looks exhausted.  There’s a sheen of sweat on her skin, the faint hint of a bruise forming on her neck that she’s going to have to cover up tomorrow morning.  Her hair is messy and sweaty, and the long day is finally starting to seep into her bones.

It feels good, though.  Satisfying.  She’s going to go back to bed and curl up with Derek.  This older Derek, with salt and pepper hair and an apartment to himself and a fond look reserved just for babies.  She’ll shower in the morning and go see her best friends and her goddaughter.  She’ll have dinner with her mom.  And then she’ll come back here and…

Well, they’ll see what happens from there.  

**Author's Note:**

> On tumblr [here](http://sleepy-skittles.tumblr.com).


End file.
